Crystallization - Part 3 of 4: Transformed

John R Powers once wrote in his book The Unoriginal Sinner and the Ice Cream God that “Life is a lousy spectator sport.” Whether you are 5, 25, 50 or 75, the difference between living and existing is the belief that the actions we take today will affect the outcome of tomorrow for ourselves and others. And to take it upon ourselves to do something about it. Each of us has to listen, and sometimes struggle, long enough to realize that we indeed have a hidden dream that necessitates taking action regardless of the potential for unsettling consequences. We know that once the ticket is purchased and the seatbelt cinched firmly across our lap, the amusement park ride that is life unfolds in ways unimaginable.  

Cicada
Watercolor and Pencil,
18 x 24

Many years ago, I remember when I had a dream; that my work as an artist could make a difference in some way. As I was changing careers after working in a field for which I had gone to college and struggled to enter and then had practiced for more than five years, I was a bit uncertain about making a change after so much commitment. A sign, if there was really such a thing, came one afternoon in the form of a cicada that alighted on a window screen in our newlywed apartment long enough for me to take pictures, study it and then let it go. This moment in time was captured in the illustration at right-the first portfolio piece for a studio that I started and ran for over 19 years. It resulted in work for a variety of companies and institutions, some of which still can be found on the internet today almost two decades after their creation. But the dream had since faded, the business closed a while ago due to a number of issues none of which had sealed its fate but in concert brought it to an end.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­_______________________

I had returned home from the trip to Michigan and mourned the loss of the previous week; the closeness with family, friends and the new people I had met and the general concept of returning to “reality.” But the sadness was quickly replaced with the realization that something big had also just happened. I just wasn’t sure what it was so I kept thinking about this internal process taking place, distilling, churning, clearing and while the last of the expanding crystal spread outwards, reaching to just below the skin.

I kept thinking about the carpenter that spent seven months restoring a historic structure on the grounds of the resort, the care taken to rebuild it and shore it up for future generations. The cook that drives many hours round trip once a week to again be a member of the “family” of resort workers which she has been a part of for many years. Or the guest that studied philosophy decades ago, a passion she shared with her husband over the course of their long lifetime together. All framed by the beautiful faces that shared these stories with me. Maybe I was meant to have stayed the full week to experience the pain in the beginning while those I met and interviewed empowered me to realize . . .  a dream.

Portraiture and storytelling. Capturing the essence of those around me and their stories. 

It was there, all along, simply waiting for the crystalline moment to open up the path to my next artistic endeavor. I had been practicing it, toying with it, but never really giving it serious consideration. Since returning home, I’ve completed no fewer than five sketches or paintings, met with a mentor/instructor that I’ve worked with for a number of years and mapped out the next four to five months of effort. In the coming months, I’ll share where I am at on the path. On the one hand I am thrilled to have this direction but on the other I’m terrified because I know what a long road I have ahead; art doesn’t bow to any specific time frame. I guess we’ll just have to see what happens next - I hope that you’ll join me on this trip. 

The Cook 
Pastel on Paper -
In Studio Study

The Carpenter 
Pastel on Paper -
In Studio Study

Crystallization - Part 2 of 4: Something Has to Give

Lower Herring 
Oil on Panel, 8" x10" 

Crystallization - Part 2 of 4

Actually the solution was . . . to do nothing. Being a long time meditator, I was all too familiar with the phrase “don’t just do something, sit there” to gain clarity on a situation but normally don’t “practice” on vacation because, well, I was on vacation . . . .  . . . from everything. But not today. Grabbing a beach blanket, I walked down to the end of a string of cottages away from the fray, stopping in front of a unit being rented by my brother-in-law. I went inside and grabbed a couple of pillows, placed them on the blanket and settled into a folded leg position on the ground overlooking a lake canopied by a brilliant blue sky and let my mind settle. The wind was gusting with enough force to rock me gently back and forth, with trees rustling white noise and waves beating the shore at the base of a bluff 20 feet or so below me. Dropping my gaze towards the ground I quickly slipped from the sticky bonds of thought, anger evaporating, leaving me in an internal space to contemplate what was actually going on. It is hard to say for those that don’t meditate what happens next, but it is a lot of nothing, demarcated by thoughts and feelings, followed by a larger expanse, followed by more thoughts. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sometimes boring, painful, exhilarating, terrifying but never predictable.

I don’t remember how long I remained in place but I eventually stood up stretching my legs now long fast asleep and walked slowly back to the cottage. As I did so, in the empty space that I had created in my head a pattern started to emerge. I was feeling fear around something, but what? It was something I really wanted to do, but didn’t feel equipped properly to do it. Stopping along the path, I mused further and realized it had to do with drawing, specifically portraiture. I was pretty sure at that point I had uncovered a previously undiagnosed case of fear/joy. If you are not familiar with the concept, think of the name Fear/Joy; it is exactly what it sounds like. A situation where you really, really need/want to do something but there is a larger than normal dollop of fear straddling it, in some cases completely obscuring the fun object. And unfortunately, to the best of my knowledge, the only cure is to push through the fear. Crap.

In my case the Fear was approaching people I didn’t know well, or at all, (not normally an issue for me) and asking them questions, taking pictures and then perhaps doing a sketch of them which was the Joy. A sketch that somewhat resembles them to be considered a “success”. I’ve done my share of drawing people but always in a studio setting or capturing someone when they aren’t aware of it; quick sketches on a plane or at a bar or while out somewhere public but nothing where I had to make it look like the person sitting across from me. My Aunt Marilyn, a childhood art inspiration to me, was a master at creating portraits for tourists on Jackson Square in New Orleans for many years.  I have some of her work in a flat file at home, portraits of my grandparents she drew years ago. There is an effortless quality, a sparseness of detail, yet enough is captured to ensure the viewer knows who the person is in a thoroughly authentic and non-caricatured way. This is an extraordinary skill of which I had virtually never practiced.

Being that this was Wednesday morning and the tennis tournament, the predominant activity of the day was getting underway, I decided to take a chance. I threw some drawing supplies into a backpack and headed to the courts to see what might inspire me. First up was baby Eloise, the latest addition to our extended family, all of seven months old - perfect. I could take as many pictures as I needed since she wouldn’t complain, with the added bonus that she wouldn’t know if I drew her poorly. Downside; she was a tough interview subject.

From there I sketched one of the many cousins in the family who was herself drawing and after snapping her picture, went in search of other prey. I pounced on one of the cooks grilling ribs behind the Inn in anticipation of a barbecue that evening. I have to laugh as I think back on the fact that I blurted out that I wanted to do her portrait and she was the one that wanted to “interview” me first. Note to self: modify how you approach your subjects. We spent a fair amount of time talking, after which I took some photos and was on my way. And so it went over the next couple of days, covering a range of guests and one of the carpenter/handyman on staff. All in all not so hard to overcome my initial trepidation and a lot more fun than I had ever imagined.

___________________________________

My last interview was with the waitress that had been serving us all week in the dining room of the resort. She agreed to meet with me between work hours, so we met up Friday morning after the breakfast tasks had been completed and walked out to a picnic table under a couple of shade trees out behind the Inn. While taking a couple of reference photos, she shared a little about who she was, where she was from and a bit about her family. As I struggled with the sketch (I find it hard enough to try to draw someone precisely not to mention carry on a conversation at the same time) we talked about what she wanted to do upon graduation and other future plans, including grad school followed by the possibility of being a museum curator. I continued drawing as I shared a story about a friend that I knew who had curated an art museum in Kohler, WI where I had just visited with my wife a few months before. Over the years, during my time as a science illustrator, I’ve had a number of opportunities to go behind the scenes to conduct research for projects of some sort or another and have always loved museums and research institutions in general. We continued to talk for a bit as I finished the sketch which had a passing resemblance to her.

We parted ways and I watched as she headed back to the kitchen while the idea of museum curation still rattled around in my head. I turned back to the sketch and continued to refine it while I smiled to myself, remembering the smell of moth balls that emanated from the trays of insects in the entomology department at the Field Museum in Chicago so many years ago. “No one goes into something like that these days; how cool. THAT was a Dream with a capitol D”.

A dream . . . . . . .  

In the warm summer haze, my hand sticking to the paper as I drew, I could feel a small piece of awe landing in the supersaturated liquid that was my being. Crystal began racing outward in all directions.

A dream . . . . . . .

Up Next: Transformed

Crystallization - Part 1 of 4

Behind the Johanna
Watercolor 11 x 14, 2014

Have you ever struggled with a decision for a period of time where you were not sure what direction to take but then, in an instant, “knew” what to do? Where confusion and opacity were replaced with a feeling of unity or a clear path to follow? One moment you didn’t know and the next you are certain?

And afterwards did you ever "wonder what just happened?"

While most of my personal decisions of any magnitude are done through careful (some would argue agonizingly obsessive) deliberation, I have also had those “aha” moments where everything snapped into place and, without a doubt, I knew what needed to happen next. Over the next four posts, I’ll share a recent experience characterized by this type of awareness as another example of how the creative process manifests itself.  Hopefully I will be able to provide you some insights on how to prepare for the same type of transformation.

There is a concept in chemistry called “instantaneous crystallization,” which is a rapid state conversion from a liquid to a solid crystalline structure in supersaturated liquids. This takes place when a small particle or “seed” is introduced into a solution that contains a higher concentration of a particular material. An almost instantaneous change takes place in dramatic fashion and reacts much like lightening striking. However, in this case it serves as metaphor with a universal truth: small things can precipitate great change due to incredibly powerful surrounding forces. Think Rosa Parks sitting on the bus refusing to give up her seat in the supersaturated environment of the deeply segregated South in 1955. Rosa is the seed that started a crystallization of the Civil Rights movement and equality rulings across the country for years afterwards.

I can only wish that my actions had the pertinence of a human rights movement. It might strike you as a bit smug or pretentious to assume similarity between such an important historical event and my “state change” but when such a shift occurs internally (and since we are all at the center of our own little universes and experience everything first from the standpoint of YOU*), it can take on similar importance. For some, the change may be so profound that it causes physical effects such as disorientation or taking your breath away. Note: as stated in infomercials - “individual results may vary”.

Supersaturation for me took on the form of many years of delaying gratification of one type for the delivery of another. I had a family to support, kids to help through college, an IT/design career that allowed me to do that and a variety of other things that helped to interfere or refine what it was that I was supposed to be doing with my life. And honestly, those were the things I needed to be doing at the time. No regrets, just backwards observation of the path that had passed beneath my feet while fixing my gaze forward. All the while, I had been learning oil painting skills along with portraiture (see earlier posts for some results) for a number of years, dabbling at it, moving through the process intuitively banging at walls trying to learn skills in a hit or miss fashion on the side. It wasn’t until I was on vacation recently that I had an opportunity to reflect on just how neglected certain aspects of my creative being had become, allowing my internal mix to reach a critical level.

To provide a bit of background, this is a vacation like no other. My daughter described it as “not a vacation but an event,” one from which we all need another vacation to recover. Relatives and friends from around the country converge for one week of get-togethers, parties, organized competitions, and events all set in a gorgeous northern Michigan environment. Introverts beware! It really is a great time for the most part but I’ve found as I’ve gotten older that it all gets to be a bit too much by the end. And since it is everyone's vacation. rather than be a buzz kill, I chose to find other pursuits and stay out of the fray but as the week approached its halfway mark I felt I had reached my tipping point. Waking one morning with an "anger" hangover, I realized this was no longer a vacation but an endurance test. I had to do something . . . .  

          *Thank you David Foster Wallace for this analogy. Kenyon commencement address, 2005.

Up Next: Something Has to Give 

Works in progress

I often find myself jumping between a number of pieces over the course of a few months, finishing them as I go, while looking for inspiration for future pieces. However, there are often some that just come together quickly, often due to it being mulled over subconsciously or something I see inspires me to sit down and complete it in one sitting. Others are portraits completed from live models which I do for the sheer joy of portraiture. 

Here are some of the other pieces I've been working on while the larger ones come together.

MB Oil Study, 9 x 12, from live model

Frank

Oil on panel, 11 x14

Folly Bay, Rockport, MA
Watercolor, 11 x 17

Underwater, There Lies Inspiration

As shared in an earlier post, I renewed by scuba license with my son last summer, in time to go diving off the coast of Monterey, CA. At the surface, sea life was abundant with pods of 50 or more Dolphins cavorting offshore while dining on bait fish, Humpback Whales and Sea Lions swam within 100 yards of the beach in pursuit of the same. Underwater, we experienced a similar bounty of life including a Cormorant swimming past us looking for its next meal, a "fly-by" from a Sea Lion and a variety of bottom life including Metridium, Octopus, nudibranchs and loads of fish and crabs.

While floating peacefully through this amazing forest of kelp that extended above us to the surface, we encountered a Giant Kelpfish suspended motionless upside down trying its best to blend in with the leaves that surrounded it. As we moved closer, it gently swam off, its elongated body undulating in striking yellow waves.

Later that day after my body warmed back up from the chilly 52 degree water, I did a quick watercolor sketch to frame up the event in my mind. The series of sketches and the final painting are a result of that experience.

Many thanks to Scott, my divemaster and the other folks at Aquarius Dive Shop for a great dive experience in Monterey.

At the Bottom of Monterey Bay, 
Watercolor sketch,  5 x 7.  

While flying back on the plane, I did a quick sketch on my iPad to play around with the composition. It was at this point that I decided on the warped perspective, to show the bottom and the surface at the same time. I used the app called Procreate and a Wacom pressure sensitive Bluetooth stylus.

And then when I returned to the studio, refined it further with this oil sketch.

Kelp Forest
oil on panel, 8 x 14"

I then roughed out the painting on a large 24 x 48" birch panel.

Here is the piece as it stands today. I am still adding details to the
bottom and filling out the entire composition.

Kelpfish! - In Progress. Oil on Panel, 36" x 48".

The Completion of Elephant Dreaming

Two years after its inception, I am happy to say that the painting Elephant Dreaming has been completed. Thankfully most of my work doesn't take this long to complete but in this case, I feel the effort was worth it. The final is more interesting and dynamic than where the original piece was headed.

If you are interested, here is a link to the original post where you can see the inspirational sketches and where the work was last left. What follows is an explanation of the piece. If you'd like to download the explanation for easier reading, click here.

Elephant Dreaming, Oil on Canvas, 18 x 36. 

Elephant Dreaming; What Does It Mean?

On the east side of Lake Michigan where my family vacations, thunderstorms make their presence known far in advance of their arrival due to the vast expanse of flat water that lies offshore. Sitting on the beach one evening listening to an approaching storm reminded me that I had once heard that elephants are able to feel subsonic waves from thunder over great distances through the pads of their feet. I mused that if they have these specialized abilities there must be all sorts of these capabilities in other animals and since we were preceded by a variety of life forms prior to becoming human, we must have gained and lost a variety of interesting senses in the process.

So what were we once able to see, hear or feel? Humans had to come from the primordial ooze, with flagella, gills, fins, tails, scales, you name it. Did we too once sense subsonic waves? Or guide ourselves through the early seas by lateral lines along our sides or primitive eye spots? And what still lurks in our cells, waiting to awaken to meet the demands of survival? This painting is a visual exploration of this theme. 

Each of the numbers on the painting corresponds with the descriptions that follow.

1.  The figure in the foreground is dreaming and as she does so, starts to revert back to a more animalistic form, in this case a Zebra, which uses its markings as camouflage in the tall grass of the African plains. Perhaps sometime in the past, we had more elaborate coloring to our hair patterns that allowed us to survive to our current form.  

2.  The elephant uses the pads of its feet to feel for subsonic waves given off by thunderstorms at distances of up to 75 miles to aid in their search for water during the dry season. Subsonic waves can travel great distances through the ground, as well as water, where prior to the appearance of powered ships and the cavitation caused by their propellers, whales were able to communicate over thousands of miles via subsonic waves.

3.  Honey Bees are able to see ultraviolet waves, allowing them to better distinguish certain types of flowers by both color and pattern that we don’t see. In addition, they use a “dance” to communicate these sources of rich pollen with others in the hive, orienting themselves to the sun as they do so.

4.  The Dung Beetle of Africa uses the Milky Way Galaxy (shown in the upper portion of the painting) for navigation. During the day, the beetle’s eyes have photoreceptors that allow it to navigate by a pattern of polarized rays around the sun. But under the dark skies of the Serengeti, the beetles orient themselves by the bright stripe of the galaxy across evening skies.

5.  Several species of jellyfish and marine feather worms have eye spots that allow them to sense light. We often think of the eye as an incredibly complex mechanism available only to higher forms of life but we have since come to realize the breadth of animals that contain some type of “vision” system, however primitive.

6.  Cartilaginous fish such as sharks and rays have a network of sensors scattered about their heads called Ampullae of Lorenzini. These sensors give its owner the ability to sense prey by the faint electrical signals given off by their muscle contractions or nervous system. These systems are incredibly fine, with the Scalloped Hammerhead Shark sensing as little as one billionth of a volt, allowing them to find live food buried under the sand. There is also speculation that this system also allows them to navigate by detecting fluctuations in the earth’s magnetic field caused by ocean currents.

  

7.  Single-celled animals use a variety of mechanisms for locomotion such as flagella, cilia or pseudopods. We too most likely had some form of locomotion in our single celled forms as our earliest direct chordate ancestor is a worm found in the fossilized mud of the Burgess Shale formation in Canada, which dates back to the Middle Cambrian Era over 500 million years ago.

8.  A sea-going animal is shown making its way to shore, most likely with some combination of gills, skin that absorbs air, lobes instead of feet or fins and a variety of other methods of adaptation that allowed it to survive better than other species and therefore pass its genes along.

9.  The volcano represents the electro-chemical stew which gave rise to all life as we know it. The exact source of the seeds are still unclear, but it is speculated that life either rose from the amino acids present in earth’s early atmosphere or was delivered via extraterrestrial sources which then prospered on our young earth.


Attributions
Since this piece originated with an essay written a number of years ago, the images and facts represented here and in the description have been gathered from a variety of sources during that time frame, none of which are presented directly with the following exceptions. The following are the articles or credit lines for this piece which can be directly correlated to the source:

• Mohamad Itani, Archangel-Images.com - female reference
• National Geographic - Dung Beetles Navigate Via the Milky Way, First Known in Animal Kingdom by Christine Dell'Amore.
• Hammerhead Shark - Wikispaces.
• Ampullae of Lorenzini - many thanks to Oliver on Grand Cayman for our discussion about the Scalloped Hammerhead shark. Wikipedia provided additional reference. 

Catching Up

It has been a while since the last post so I have some catching up to do. No excuses. Just busy doing some other things to provide inspiration, like travel, completing my scuba license in time to dive off the Monterey Peninsula in CA last week (more on that in a later post) and a number of other side projects that are best left for summer.

Back in August while vacationing with my family in northern Michigan at a one time logging camp/now summer resort, there is a tree stump behind a cottage that we rent. It is quite large and very weathered, so I imagine it is an echo of the forest that used to surround the camp before the operation went bankrupt in the late 1800s. Purchased as a music camp after lying dormant for many years, the result is a splendid resort called Watervale, still owned and operated by descendants of the original purchaser. Its natural beauty and the Victorian charm of the original camp structures have been the source of much inspiration for vacationers and artists over the years.

The remains of this tree have always intrigued me as it lies not too far from a path leading from the back of the cottage. Late afternoon shadows cast by the surrounding trees and flowers interplay with the coarseness of the surface of the aged and faded wood allowing for a delightful dance of texture, light and color.

Johanna's Garden
10 x 14, Watercolor on paper

Birch Over Lower Herring 
10 x 14, Watercolor on paper, 2013

Thinking back on the past couple of years of visiting Watervale, I remembered the piece shown above that I completed last year while sitting at the front of the cottage which faces a small lake. The sheer size of the tree, the complexity of its leaves and trunk and the amazing texture of its bark just begged to be painted. 

It is included here as a comparison to the other painting as they capture different views of the same place at similar times of the year, but separated by a year.